


Waffles

by Protecttonystark



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Brotherly Love, Gen, Good Brother Klaus Hargreeves, Luther Hargreeves is trying his best, but with all fluff and zero kink, tua kink meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 16:46:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18253871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Protecttonystark/pseuds/Protecttonystark
Summary: Five needs a hobby, and lucky for him Klaus needs something to meddle in.





	Waffles

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt at the Umbrella Academy Kink Meme:  
> https://umbrellakink.dreamwidth.org/284.html?thread=31004#cmt31004

“I can’t believe I actually preferred when you were a hyperfocused psychopath.”

  
“Shut up, Klaus.”

  
He tilts his head to the side, one slender finger at the corner of his mouth as though he’s giving legitimate thought to the order. He stretches out his legs as he does, pushing up against Five’s side. It’s no use putting on a show, after all, if it’s not going to be observed.

“Hmmmm, no. Anyway, we clearly need to find you a new hobby. All this post-Apocalypse-that-wasn’t moping around the house is very stressful.”

Five still has yet to really look at him, glaring stubbornly down at the book in his lap, but he hasn’t actually turned a page in at least five minutes so Klaus knows he isn’t truly focusing on it. And the sight is a sudden stab of memory—that odd brand of pseudo-nostalgia that so often comes along with Five, who bears the same face and so many of the same mannerisms packaged along with a lifetime of isolation and the savage sort of survival of simply refusing to lay down and die—of sprawling on the couch, gangly and too-thin already at thirteen, competing with Ben to see who could get Five frustrated enough to admit to distraction the fastest. Klaus has a pretty clear advantage at the moment, what with being alive and corporeal, but Ben keeps pushing him to embrace and explore his powers now that he’s not high out of his fucking mind 100% of every day. Irritating the ever loving shit out of Five might be just enough of an incentive to get him on board with pushing himself past his fear of anything to do with his oh so wonderful ability.

“First of all, I can guarantee right now I want nothing to do with any of your hobbies. And second,” Five barrels right on through Klaus’s squawk of offense—he’s perfectly capable of finding something boring and ‘socially acceptable’ for his brother to do, thank you very much—“I don’t _mope_ .”

“Oh, please.” Klaus kicks his foot out against his brother’s shoulder, narrowing his eyes as Five slaps at the offending limb while still not looking away from that stupid fucking book, “you’re starting to mope worse than Luther. I’d applaud your commitment to the craft if it wasn’t such a buzzkill.”

Five’s fingers tighten their grip on his book, knuckles turning white. Klaus flashes a smirk at Ben, who glares in response. Klaus knows Ben has the posthumous reputation as the ‘good’ brother, which is a little hilarious to him considering what a competitive asshole he is, and he’s familiar enough with all his emotions to be able to read _JEALOUS_ written in neon letters all over his face even without taking into account the crossed arms and sulky, bent posture. Klaus lets him stew—two irritated brothers for the price of one!—since he knows that frown will be turning upside down as soon as he talks to him about his newfound commitment to hammering out that pesky corporeality issue while simultaneously fucking with Five. For now, Klaus is winning at Piss off Five, and he is very willing to rub the victory all up in Ben’s face.

“Shouldn’t you be shooting up in an alley somewhere right around now?”

Klaus tenses at that, but refuses to pull away. Five always was good at aiming right for a person’s weak spot, even before all the baggage and added cruelty that apparently come from being the last person alive on Earth for a few decades. It’s a successful blow--sobriety is _really fucking hard_ , okay, and it’d be nice if _someone_ could acknowledge how much work he’s putting into this--but Klaus is a stubborn bastard himself, and he’s certainly not going to make it easy for Five to know how well it landed. Besides, Klaus is pretty sure Five doesn’t mean him any true harm. He’s _pretty_ sure none of his siblings want to legitimately hurt him with callous jokes and offhand comments, particularly when said comments are only in response to his own needling of them, but if there’s one thing Klaus has learned in his life, it’s that you never, _ever_ display your vulnerability, unless you want someone to plunge the knife in as soon as your back is turned—figuratively or all too often, unfortunately, literally.

He considers retorting with a question about playing with dolls, but he dismisses it. For all that it was legitimately insane for his brother to have such an attachment to a goddamn mannequin, Klaus can recognize a coping mechanism when he sees one, and he can sympathize with how hard it must have been for Five to let go of Delores. Besides, the aim of the game is to annoy Five into giving up on his stupid book, and emotionally Tombstoning him doesn’t count. Klaus is determined to get himself a head start before he really lets Ben back into the running.

So, like the mature and sober adult he is, Klaus picks up one of the pillows he’s currently lounging against and wallops Five right in his smug little teen face. He’s expecting the retaliatory projectile, and so the book bounces off of his crossed forearms instead of smashing into his nose like Five intended. As a final coup de grace, Klaus shoves his feet between Five’s back and the couch and launches the little asshole onto the floor. He uses the momentum to swing his legs up and over his fuming but, for the moment, shocked brother, taking the opportunity to dash across the room and out the door before Five can organize himself enough to give chase. He scuttles past Luther and Diego coming in, taking the opportunity to smack the back of Diego’s head as he passes, because he can and because while he may not be able to come up with a specific at the moment, he’s positive Diego’s done _something_ to warrant it. He can hear the rumbling of a question from Luther, over the threats and cursing shouted by Diego, but he simply gives a jaunty little wave over his shoulder without breaking stride. He can feel the start of a plan beginning to sprout in his mind, and it doesn’t include watching the shitshow that is Luther trying to impose order on Diego and Five, no matter how entertaining that show always is.

 

Five, Klaus muses, needs something to take care of. When he came back, he had the secondary goal of preventing the entire world from being horrifically killed, with what Klaus is pretty certain was a primary goal of protecting _them_ from painful death. During his time after the apocalypse, he had some weird, creepy bond with Delores, with the added focus of being enough of a stubborn fucking bastard to not just keel over. Now that the apocalypse isn’t looming over their heads anymore, and Delores is, apparently happily, back at her department store, there’s a void that Five doesn’t know how to fill.

Klaus’s first thought is, admittedly, heroin, because he knows firsthand just how much of a _wonderful_ distraction that is from the horror show that comes with being a Hargreeve. But he’s able to recognize that as his own cravings trying to take front and center, and he dismisses it quickly.

He also quickly dismisses the idea of finding Five a real, human friend, which he can admit is almost as stupid of an idea as Ben’s suggestion of getting him a plant. The biggest problem is the fact that the only people Klaus can think of that actually _like_ Five are family, and they’re all _literally insane_ . What are the odds of not only finding another person who can stomach Five, but who also won’t piss off any of the others-- _looking at you, Diego_ \--enough to get themselves murdered? Probably higher than convincing Five the answer to all of his troubles can be found in growing a fucking fern, _Ben_ , but that’s not really saying much.   
He’s giving serious thought to how one would go about stealing an octopus from an aquarium--they’re creepy and offputting and supposedly scarily smart, so all in all just like Five--when he hears a rustling coming from underneath the dumpster he’s poking through. He carefully peers over the edge, because you just never know what might be waiting for a chance to strike, but quickly relaxes with a grin and a sudden shift in his agenda for the day. It’s no octopus, but, looking into big brown eyes, Klaus gets that undeniable feeling of getting something _right_.

 

“Good morning, oh largest brother, mine. You haven’t happened to have seen a four foot sociopath in knee socks running around lately, have you?”

Luther squints at him, and Klaus very graciously waits for the wheels he can see turning in his brother’s mind to line up. Even with the added time he’s been spending with his siblings, Klaus still can’t really get over just how much of an open book his brother is. Not to mention, there’s always something so good natured about Luther’s constant bafflement. The man has absolutely _no idea_ what is going on at any given moment, but by god he’s trying his best and he’s always along for the ride.

“Is--is your coat, uh, _moving_?”

Klaus can’t help grinning, because honestly, he can _see_ Luther trying to puzzle out whether or not it’s _rude_ to bring up the question. He’s sure his curiosity only won out because he had no fucking clue what else to do. He breezes past Luther’s chair, pausing only briefly to pat the top of his head on his way to rummage through the fridge.

“Why, Luther, I’ve no _idea_ what you could possibly be talking about.”

His coat chooses that moment to squirm with a high pitched little _yip!_ Klaus can see Luther, bless his sweet furry heart, squinting his eyes once more, and Klaus guesses from previous experience that he’s torn between concern that Klaus legitimately doesn’t realize what’s happening, and the suspicion that he’s being fucked with. Klaus simply smiles back, shoving almost an entire piece of pie into his mouth. It’s peach, which he fucking hates, but for one he’s _starving_ , and for two he’s pretty sure it’s Diego’s. Fucking with Diego is just as fun as fucking with Five, so it’s worth the artificial syrupy fruit flavor.

“Klaus, seriously, what’s in your coat?”

Ah, so Luther’s finally come to the conclusion that Klaus is feigning ignorance for purposes of being an irritating little dick. Klaus almost applauds, rewarding his brother with a pleased smile for his efforts. The answering grin he receives is so goddamn sweet--still _very_ confused but full of the pride Luther can’t seem to help anytime he’s gifted with anything that even remotely looks like positive reinforcement--Klaus deigns to share the remaining quarter piece of pie with him. Luther manages to look like he’s simultaneously scared the pie is going to leap off the plate and bite him on the nose--which, to be honest, would probably not be the weirdest thing either of them have experienced--and honored to have received such a precious gift.

“Well, Luther, if you must know, it’s a very rare autonomous skin condition. Super embarrassing, as you’d imagine, so I’d appreciate you not calling attention to it.”

He catches Luther giving him his patented Serious Face out of the corner of his eye, but he simply blows a kiss in return. He doesn’t have the heart or the energy to explain to Luther that he is probably physically incapable of pulling a face that’s more intimidating than the myriad ghosts he had to pass on his way to the house, and most of them weren’t really even trying to be horrific. Luther, for all his giant exterior, has far too gooey of a center to be frightening.

Before Klaus can really test whether or not he can convince Luther he’s hiding a sentient skin infection underneath his coat, he’s interrupted by the arrival of Five, who for once has chosen to actually walk through the door rather than scaring the absolute shit out of his poor, innocent brothers by simply appearing in a flash of blue like an _asshole_.

“Ah! If it isn’t the mopey little bastard I’ve been looking for!”

“Klaus, could you shut up for one minute? And I mean that seriously, do you think yourself capable of being quiet just for sixty goddamn seconds?”

“Oh, heavens no.” Klaus shudders as dramatically as he can--which, he’s proud to say, is _pretty damn dramatic_ \--before unzipping his coat with a flourish, depositing his furry passenger on the table in a happy heap of too big paws and frantically wagging tail.

“Klaus. What, the fuck, is that?”

Klaus snorts, flashing a disbelieving look towards Ben, who simply rolls his eyes in response. Klaus isn’t sure if he’s rolling his eyes at Five for not reacting with the proper enthusiasm to his gift, or at Klaus for not giving any warning before unveiling it, so Klaus sticks his tongue out at him just in case.

“Five, meet Waffles!”

“Aww, that’s cute!”

Klaus gives Luther another wide, pleased smile, noting that this time Luther’s much quicker to return it. He’s not sure if that’s because he’s smitten with the puppy licking the remnants of peach pie off his fingers, or because he’s getting more comfortable being around people who _aren’t_ the devil incarnate--a.k.a their miserable, twisted fucking father--but Klaus can’t deny it warms something in his cold, dead ( _ha!_ ) heart.

“Where the hell did you find a dog?”

Klaus waves a dismissive hand, reaching out with the other to scritch under the dog’s chin, “I have my ways, Five, don’t you worry about that.”

“It’s filthy, probably full of some sort of disease. Although, god only knows what the wretched thing managed to pick up from riding around in _your_ coat.”

Klaus notes the way Five’s fingers twitch towards Waffles before he apparently thinks better of it, turning away with a scoff. Thankfully, Klaus has spent enough time with Five--both pre-and post-his time jump--to know that he is seemingly incapable of reacting to anything with genuine enthusiasm, so he’s not discouraged.

“Well, if you think she’s so dirty, I guess you’d better give her a bath.”

Five pins him with his own brand of Suspicious Eyes, which are certainly more effective than Luther’s, but still not as terrifying as the disemboweled ghost he’d passed by that morning, so Klaus simply smiles back.

“Why would I wash your flea bitten dog for you?”

“She’s obviously not _mine_ Five, it’d be simply irresponsible of me to make a dog sleep on those unyielding racks they pass off as park benches these days. You, on the other hand, seem to have a nice little set up over here, perfect for little Waffles!”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Of course she can stay here!”

Five and Luther speak at the same time, and Klaus would give them points for teamwork if they weren’t perfectly contradicting each other. Klaus, luckily, has a lot of practice with completely ignoring anything and anyone who’s posing an inconvenience to him--as Ben can attest to, the sourpuss--and so he claps his hands with a grin.

“Perfect, it’s settled! I know a guy with a pet shop who owes me a favor or two, so I’ll come by later with food and supplies for the sweet little goblin. In the meantime, wow, Five, I can’t believe you’ve let your dog get so filthy, you really ought to give her a bath.”

Klaus scoops Waffles up and plops her into Five’s hands, making note of the way his arms immediately cradle the little bundle of excitable fur to his chest despite the admittedly impressive bitch face he’s sporting. Taking advantage of Five’s momentary shift in attention, Klaus darts out the door, but he doesn’t miss the small, surprised smile on his brother’s face as Waffles does her best to cover every inch of skin in enthusiastic slobber.

 

“So, that went well!”

Klaus decides to ignore the scoff from beside him, waving cheerily at the irate driver he cuts off as he ambles across the street.

“I give it two days, tops, before he kicks her back onto the street.”

“Honestly, Ben, that sort of pessimism won’t get you anywhere in life.” He grins back at his brother’s glare, easily spotting the grin trying to force its way past the scowl he’s forcing, “besides, I think you’re underestimating Five’s all consuming need to have something to rely on him. Those two will be inseparable in no time, mark my words. Plus, I’m pretty sure Luther would _cry_ if he got rid of her, and nobody wants that.”

Ben hums in soft agreement, head tilted to the side as they walk.

“Did you notice she actually seemed to notice me?”

“I did indeed, my tentacled friend.”

“I wonder how long it would take Diego to freak out if I got her to follow me around and stare into the corner of every room he goes in.”

Klaus laughed, head tilted back, unheeding the concerned stares and wide berths the strangers they pass give him, “oh, you’re on. I bet I can get her to pee on his bondage-gear-slash-ass-kicking-outfit.”

**Author's Note:**

> The Hargreeves are ride or die ok but I stand firm in the belief that Klaus and Diego do everything they can to bug the absolute shit out of each other in between making sure the other is safe and taken care of.
> 
> Luther is a big, big dumbass and I like him so much.


End file.
